Yes!  We Actually Had Bananas
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Morgan/Hotch established relationship.  When Morgan slips on a banana peel, hilarity ensues.  This is in the "Fruit of the Forbidden Tree" series.


_**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has been patiently waiting for our stories to be posted. We appreciate your support and apologize for any delays. Real life, however, has taken precedence! We always want to be able to provide you with quality stories and chapters, so our postings may be a bit sporadic over the next month.**_

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_**As always, we do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters that we so enjoy writing. If we did own them, we would have never had JJ leave!**_

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**Yes! We Actually HAD Bananas**

Staring up at the blocked tiled ceiling, he forced himself to accept the indisputable fact that he was never going to live down this moment. After all, how many people actually had to be put in traction after slipping on an honest-to-God banana peel?

"Don't say a word," he ground out as the paramedics shifted him from the cold tiled floor to the gurney. "Not one freaking word."

"Did I look like I was going to say a thing?" Aaron Hotchner choked, trying to stifle his laughter in spite of his obvious worry. True, his lover was in obvious pain. The other man's muscled body _had_ taken a hell of a hit when he'd landed, and Aaron would be willing to bet there'd be at least a mild concussion associated with that fall from grace. But at least he was talking...well, ordering...and that was a good sign. Besides, his skull had been busted a time or two before, and he'd lived to tell the tale.

"I want that fucking peel dusted for prints, Hotch," he grumbled from the gurney, closing his eyes for a moment. "I want to know the bastard that thought the floor would be a great trash receptacle."

"Well, since the evidence is still partially on your shoe," Hotch deadpanned, "I'm thinking that might be a bit difficult," he stated, following the gurney toward the elevators, their colleagues all standing by, their faces a myriad of concern and amusement. After all, who would expect big, bad Derek Morgan to fall flat on his ass compliments of a fruit peel?

"Everybody's looking, aren't they?" Derek muttered, his dark face flushing as he tried to twist his head in the neck brace to see his audience.

"Of course not," Hotch said with a straight face.

"Liar," Morgan groused. "I swear to God, Reid," he yelled as they loaded him into the elevator. "If you show up at the hospital spouting one fact or statistic on the odds of my accident ever happening, I'll personally sign you up for a colonoscopy!"

"I'm sure Emily or Garcia will gag him for you," Hotch assured the younger man, winking at a gaping Reid as the elevator door closed on them.

"You know this is completely dumb. I'm fine. Just let me get up and walk it off," Derek complained, struggling against the gurney's restraints, attempting to stifle a man as he felt a sharp pain slide against his temple.

"OSHA regulations," Hotch shrugged, biting his lower lip to keep from smiling. "You know the drill. Work place accidents require an ER doctor's sign-off."

"Hotch, this is bullshit," Derek whined, wincing as he tried to lift his head.

"Agreed," Hotch said as he nodded. "But, you're still doing it," he said, meeting the dark skinned man's eyes meaningfully. "Just think of the story you'll have to share with Jack tonight."

"We are not telling that boy anything. Unless I can lie and tell him I busted down a door or tackled an unsub or something, we're saying nothing," Derek groused as the elevator door reopened and he was quickly transported into a waiting ambulance. "I'm never gonna live this down," he muttered to himself as the gurney clicked into place and the paramedic slid a blanket over his prone body.

"Maybe in a year or two...or twenty," Hotch chuckled, climbing into the emergency vehicle behind Derek.

"You're enjoying this," Derek accused, glaring at his lover and boss.

"I'm...slightly amused. I mean, for me, this is better than seeing you injured in the line of duty," Aaron tried to explain.

"I WAS injured in the line of duty! I was trying to get my first cup of coffee of the day!" Derek growled. "WHICH I never got!"

Laughing outright now, Hotch shook his head. "Didn't we talk about switching you to decaf? These cravings of yours wouldn't be nearly as bad if you weren't addicted to the caffeine. What were you doing? Sprinting to the coffeepot?"

Lowering his voice to just above a whisper, Derek glanced at the paramedic busily making notes and transmitting information to the hospital. "If you remember right, I would have gotten my first cup in the comfort of my own home this morning if somebody hadn't diverted me in the kitchen."

Hotch's eyes glowed as they met Morgan's. Smiling faintly, he murmured, "Is it my fault Jessica decided to pick Jack up half an hour ahead of schedule? Did you really expect me to ignore the use of a full half hour all to ourselves? If _I_ remember right, you got an adrenaline rush then, too. It just didn't originate with Maxwell House."

"Yeah," Morgan grunted, a reluctant smile pulling at his lips. "And everybody think _you're_ the staid, stoic one in this relationship."

"I'm making up for lost time," Hotch teased, his eyes dancing.

"Based on the pain in my back, not for a while you won't be," Morgan retorted, shifting restlessly on the thin mattress. "This sucks, Aaron. I hate hospitals," he whined, sounding almost like Jack when he didn't get his way.

"You'll be in and out in an hour," Hotch soothed, scooting forward on the small aluminum seat. "And look at it this way, you're off dish duty tonight," he pointed out, knowing that dishwashing was his domestic partner's least favorite chore.

"I'd rather do the dishes. For a year," Morgan pouted. "Look, man...there just gonna poke and prod and make a sore situation sorer. Then there gonna hand me some ibuprofen and send me home. We've got that crap at home."

"You're going, Derek," Hotch said sternly, gentling the sentiment by taking Morgan's hand in his.

"Sometimes it really bites to love you," Derek mumbled, casting Hotch an irritated glare.

"What's that old song? Love Hurts?" Hotch grinned amiably, content that he'd won this particular argument.

"It bleeds too, Aaron," Derek warned, narrowing his eyes. "Remember that for later."

And bending low so not to be overheard, Aaron whispered against Derek's ear as he trailed a gentle finger over the younger man's sleeve covered shoulder, "Promises, promises. If I'm remembering the events of this morning, I drew first blood."

"Yeah, only because I think you're part vampire," Derek whispered back as the ambulance drew to a halt. "You'll stay with me, right?" he asked quickly as the paramedic released the brakes on the gurney.

"Always, Derek," Hotch nodded, his words a vow. One he'd never meant more in his life.

**Finis**

**Dedicated to my twin sons on their birthday. Nathaniel, Mommy loves you! Elijah, I know you watch over us from heaven!**


End file.
